Freaky Tuesday
by TheAssbuttOfCassbutt
Summary: After a seemingly easy witch hunt turns out to have unforeseen consequences, Castiel and Dean Winchester end up having swapped bodies. Curious exploration on both parts follows. Set after season 11 but where Lucifer was never released because Chuck showed up earlier. Rating will go up in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! So, as a returning writer, I'mma warn you now that I update slow and have been known to just sort of give up on fics. Good news is that I've got tickets to Asylum con in May so as the date gets closer, my love for SPN can only increase, and as a result, I'll write lots of chapters :3

Also, if you notice a lowercase "i" in the wrong place, blame my laptop, the keyboard of which doesn't have a working "i" key so I have to copy and paste it which is annoying because it turns my text weird colours in the "edit document" thing.

 **Note: Set after season 11 but where Lucifer was never released because Chuck showed up earlier. Mary Winchester is on hiatus, finding herself as in 12x03**

So, without further ado, please enjoy!

 **Chapter 1**

"Haha yeah, alright! Way to go guys, that's gotta be the most successful hunt we've ever been on!" exclaimed Dean Winchester as he entered the motel room with his brother and his best friend, the angel.

He heard a tired murmur of agreement from Sam and continued, "Seriously, I just can't believe it. The bitch didn't land a single hit on any of us. Is it just me or are monsters getting sloppy these days?" he grinned to himself at his own hilarity.

"Actually Dean, witches don't really fit into the category of 'monster'", Cas chimed in helpfully, though 'chimed' didn't really sound all that accurate when describing the low, gravelly tone of Cas' voice, thought Dean. "Unless, of course, you mean it in the figurative term, in that case-" Dean cut him off.

"So, anyway...", he flashed Cas an apologetic look for ignoring him, trying not to focus on the small glare he got that admittedly sent chills through his spine, "two beds, three guys...what's the arrangement gonna be tonight? 'Cause I ain't driving all the way back to the bunker right now, not at this time." He glanced over at Sam who was swaying on his feet, trying to suppress a yawn, it was almost comedic and Dean would admit to the fact that he would pay good money to watch his gigantosaur of a brother fall over, some time. Some time, but not now. Not when they'd managed to get through a full day - hunt and all - without anyone (except the witch bitch) getting hurt.

He threw his tan duffel bag down onto the nearest of the queen beds and sat down, leaning against it, and looked up to glance between his brother and his angel. Their angel. The angel. Cas. Castiel. Whatever, it didn't matter, so long as he didn't have to share a bed with the guy. Sure, he'd shared a bed with Sammy before, on occasion, when they were younger especially and their father took off for days at a time, leaving them in cramped motels, not dissimilar to this one. But it was much less common now they were older, and only on rare occasions where there were no spare rooms with double beds or where they were making use of an abandoned house with only one bed in a decent state, they would make do, however they could. Though the arrangement was almost exclusively top-to-tail, unless they only had one pillow to share between them, in which case, they slept back to back, and respected each other's privacy as much as they could.

While thinking back to past circumstances, Dean realised he'd sort of zoned out staring at Cas while both Sam and the angel stared at him questioningly, as if he was missing something obvious.

"What?" he voiced, a little too aggressively, after feeling his masculinity challenged by his past situations and the impending thought of spending the night in the same bed as Cas. Or Sam. Probably, Sam.

"Umm" began said brother before looking over to Cas and back to Dean, raising his eyebrows. Dean raised his right back and sat, staring in a silent 'brow battle' over who was going to say something first. Dean's cluelessness must have been pretty damn obvious because Sam sighed and said "Cas, you mind taking this one? I'm spent" and without waiting for a reply, he dropped his own bag next to the second bed and fell down gracelessly onto it with a loud thump and rolled over, to face away from the other occupants in the room before seemingly just dropping off. Dean was impressed, it usually took them both a while to shut off the outside world - consequence of living the kind of lives they led.

Dean stared at his brother, conked out and snoring lightly, for a few more seconds before turning back to Cas, confused. If Sam had already took up the whole second bed to himself, did that mean...?

Cas cleared his throat. "Dean", he looked up into the angel's bright blue eyes that shone, even in the dark, red-tinted, cramped motel room. Wait...angel...Cas was an angel..."You seem to have forgotten that, as a celestial being, I don't require any rest".

Well, didn't he feel like an idiot.

Of course, he remembered now, back in that motel room when they were investigating the cartoon related deaths in Oklahoma City; Cas had told him that he didn't sleep and had offered to watch over Dean while he slept. Dean had rejected the offer, because it was creepy as hell and he liked his, uh, privacy when Sam was asleep and he could slip off to the bathroom, with a copy of Busty Asian Beauties, to 'take care of business'. Clearly, having an angel of the lord watching his every move would complicate things.

Actually, that was a good question. "Hey, uh Cas?", he tried to keep his voice relatively low for Sam's sake as he continued after a small nod from the other man, "So, um, if an angel was in heaven - or anywhere really - and they wanted to know what was going on somewhere else, say in this room, for example, would they be able to just, sort of, see it, like, whatever was happening, even without them being there, or..." he wasn't sure how to phrase the question properly so he just let it taper off.

He watched Cas intently as he did that thing where he narrows his eyes to the point where Dean is sure the guy can't actually see a thing. Then his face softened as he realised what he was really being asked, the question was there, hidden in Dean's words but not truly acknowledged; did Castiel ever spy on the Winchesters without their knowing?

He kept quiet, knowing the angel's silence was owing to the fact that Cas was thinking very carefully about his answer, Dean tried not to ponder on how that should probably be taken as a bad sign - it was a well known fact to him that Cas wasn't a particularly expert liar and so his extended silence and the nagging feeling it brought probably should have told the older Winchester that something was wrong.

But he ignored it all the same. This was Cas he was talking about here, or thinking about, he supposed. No way he'd ever voice these stupid doubts to his friends face, their relationship was often strained at best in any case.

He chose to believe that Cas was just taking his time to consider the question and waited patiently, shifting about on the bed until he had his back against the wall to the right and his arm now draped protectively over his bag and the few worldly items it contained that Dean could say belonged to him.

Finally, Castiel spoke up, quietly, "I know for a fact that archangels would have no problem with simply 'tuning in'", Dean smiled at Cas' air quotes, "to the world around them, irregardless of place or time. However, as far as I'm aware, the closest any other angel could get to the desired effect would be to become invisible and simply listen to a conversation or witness an event first hand. Unfortunately, this can't guarantee safety as an angel is incredibly vulnerable while invisible as it takes an extraordinary amount of constant power to bend the fabric of reality in such a way that allows us to move between planes of existence"

He paused and looked as though he were about to continue when he looked up from the floor and caught Dean's eye, realising that most of what he'd said had gone over the hunter's head. His words visibly caught in his throat as he stumbled over them with an "ah...uh...I mean...that is to say..." he continued to struggle to explain the complicated process of becoming invisible and maintaining said state for a period of time.

Finally, Dean interrupted him, "Yeah, so, um," he looked down and licked his lips before looking back up into the angel's eyes, "So, you're saying that, if they wanted, any archangel douchebag, like Lucifer, could just know what's going on, anywhere?" It sounded even creepier when he said it out loud.

"Well, uh, theoretically, yes, though please bear in mind that it was Gabriel who told me this, several millennia ago, so it may well be a, um, joke".

Dean tried to ignore the fact that his eyes had subconsciously traced his friend's tongue as it darted out to wet his own lips whenever he paused in his sentences.

He wasn't into that thing, goddamnit. He looked across to his sleeping brother and inwardly cursed at him for all his suggestions over the years of Dean's sexuality. He was clearly a completely macho heterosexual. Sam just insisted on riling him up and making fun of him. Well, two could play at that game; he made a mental note to hint to Cas at some point that Sam had a thing for one of the angel's brothers. He smiled, imagining Cas' reaction and was caught off guard when he spoke.

"What are you thinking about Dean?"

The hunter panicked and almost shouted, "Nothing!" just a little too quickly. Cas narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to inquire further but Dean cut him off for the second time that night, "I was just wondering if one of your angel buddies could be watching us right now". He gave himself a mental pat on the back for that quick save.

Castiel frowned and looked between Dean and his brother before looking down in thought and eventually re-establishing eye contact with the hunter before replying with, "It is...unlikely. Aside from the fact that Michael, Raphael and Gabriel are dead, and Lucifer should not be able to access that kind of power from the cage, I should think that if an angel was present in this room, either in mind, body, or spirit, I would have noticed. Or, at least, I would hope that I'd notice".

Dean nodded, soberly, not really listening at this point. After he'd watched Sam's chest rise and fall from the side a few times, he'd suddenly realised how tired he was too. He may not tire as easily as his brother but driving all over the country really did a number on him at times, especially after a long case.

For a second, he realised he hadn't really taken in anything Cas had just said at all and felt more than a little guilty but thankfully, it was as if the angel could read his mind - who knows, maybe he could - as he followed up with, "So, in short, I believe that your privacy is well guarded against angels of any type and so you need not worry".

Good old Cas, thought the eldest Winchester as he stifled a yawn, always looking out for others.

They were silent for a few moments, Dean still propped up against the wall, leaning on his bag, which he just now noticed was the exact same colour as Cas' trench coat. Was that why he liked it so much? Because it reminded him of his best friend? Dean smiled lazily and attempted to stifle another yawn but was nowhere near successful this time as it wriggled it's way out of his throat and punctuated the air around him.

He had to admit, that was one embarrassingly loud yawn and he just waited when it was over for Cas to say something, he knew to expect it at this point.

"Dean, I'm detecting several signs of tiredness and potential exhaustion coming from you, I believe it would be best if you went to sleep now."

Dean wasn't going to argue with that, so he made his way to the bathroom on the left to get changed for bed, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

"Night Cas", he mumbled as he walked past the angel.

After several minutes, he emerged from the en suite bathroom to find that Castiel was still stood in the room, between the beds of the two brothers.

"Um, Cas, what're you gonna do now? I mean, you don't sleep and I thought we already agreed that you don't watch me when I sleep so..."

"Well, I was going to just sit here," he gestured to a suspiciously brown armchair in the corner that Dean was pretty sure had once been white - or red, it really was hard to tell at this point, "but seeing as you have not made that an option, I suppose I will spend the night at the park we passed on the way here, or perhaps-"

Dean was quick to interrupt Cas before his voiced thoughts turned to ramblings, "Listen, Cas, if it's one night, then I have no problem with you staying here. Just...just, please do something. Don't watch us sleep, that's just creepy. Read a book or something, I'm sure Sam has some in his bag, the giant nerd."

Cas smiled and thanked him before wishing him good night and crouching beside Sam's bed to search his bag for reading material.

Dean gave him a tired grin in return before flopping down onto the bed as Sam had done 10 minutes or so ago. After he seemed to have found a book of interest to him, Cas could be heard settling in the stained chair. Dean proceeded to roll over and face the wall so he, hopefully, wouldn't feel Cas' eyes on him too much. But, of course, he did. And yet, for whatever strange reason, Dean fell asleep faster in that night than he ever had before.


	2. Chapter 2

Updated: 07/03/17 - a couple of lower case "i"s corrected.

Just like to say thanks for all the follows and favourites guys! Seriously, I had 7 followers and 2 favourites after just one day! That's the best I've ever had on a fic in that amount of time :3

I won't ramble on today, just enjoy...

 **Chapter 2**

When he woke up, Dean noticed with a dim confusion that he was lying on a decidedly hard surface; much more so than that of a motel bed, at least. Opening his eyes, he was struck by how he was peering up at said bed from ground level.

Shaking his head to rid himself of his apparent disorientation just made him feel dizzier and blinking rapidly didn't do much to clear the sleep from his eyes. He hauled himself up onto his hands and knees and felt bile rise in his throat. Nope. He fell to the floor and the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness again was his brother stirring in his sleep.

He woke to a gentle shake and someone calling out Cas' name. Sammy. It was Sammy speaking, he realised. He groaned and shifted into an upright position but didn't open his eyes for fear he'd overwhelm himself and pass out again.

What the hell had even happened? Had they been attacked? If so, why hadn't Sam woken up? Ninjas. That was the single word his brain supplied and Dean nodded; that made sense.

"Cas?" Sam questioned, "You okay man?"

That was another question, if Sam was asking if Cas was alright, who was currently holding Dean steady with their hands on his shoulders?

Sam, again, started questioning the angel, "Cas? Listen, do you know where Dean is?"

Wait, what? He was right here and Sam sounded like he was right in front of him. How could he not see him? Maybe he was invisible, he realised with a start. But before he started panicking, he realised he should probably open his eyes to get a better hold on the situation.

Slowly, so as not to confuse his senses, he peered into the empty space in front of him; the motel room was looking significantly brighter than before he went to sleep so he guessed it was morning - or afternoon - and he'd clearly been out all night.

He felt one hand leave his shoulder and sensed someone moving back out of his personal space to his right. He turned his head to see his brother looking at him with concern and one hand still on his shoulder. But, wait, if Sam was with him...

He looked around quickly, searching for Cas but discovered that the angel didn't seem to be in the room, which meant-

"Thank god you're alright... I mean, no offense. Not God. Just, I'm just glad you're okay... Have you seen Dean? Do you know what happened to him?" Sam continued his onslaught of questions as Dean's frown began to deepen and the situation dawned on him. "Cas?" Sam shook him by the shoulders again. "Cas?" A little harder. "Castiel, snap out of it, where's my brother?"

And all Dean could do was squeeze his brother's arm and mutter "Ninjas" - in a painfully familiar, deep, rough voice - before his mind rejected the reality of the situation and blanked, leaving him to fall into Sam's arms, once again unconscious.

* * *

When Dean came around for the third time that day, he noticed his head wasn't pounding nearly as much and his eyes didn't hurt at all to open, despite the level of light flooding into the room at this time. Dean guessed it had to be mid-day.

Looking around, he noticed he was led on the same bed he'd fallen asleep in the night before and his heart skipped a beat as he realised that the whole ninja thing and Sam calling him Castiel, had clearly been a dream.

And then he was filled again with that sense of dread from his so-called dream as he threw back the covers to find himself dressed in the angels attire - trench coat and all.

His not-so-manly shriek could probably be heard by just about everyone currently inhabiting the dingy "Minneapolis' Maple Motel" which, funnily enough, was over 300 miles from Minneapolis.

A crash was heard from the bathroom before he heard his brother swear. A moment later, Sam ran into the room in nothing but a shower cap and a small white hand towel wrapped part-way around his waist.

Ignoring the many, many questions this raised for Dean, he stuck to the basics for now.

"Dude!" he grimaced at his own voice. "What the hell is going on?!"

Sam gave him that stupid look where he opens his eyes wide as if you're missing something really obvious and he can't believe how stupid you're being, the exact same look he'd been given last night when he forgot Cas didn't sleep. He had to admit, that had been pretty stupid but he wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to be missing here.

"What are you talking about Cas? You're the one that keeps passing out and won't tell me where Dean is and since when did you say 'dude'?" he gave a skeptical look to Dean who was dangerously close to punching some sense into his brother.

"Okay, first things first, Sammy" he fought the urge to laugh at the confusion on Sam's face, "I'm not Cas." And now the confusion was mixed with shock. "Now, either you've got your wires crossed, in which case, I guess we must've all gotten pretty smashed at some point last night, which would explain why I'm in this get-up" he gestured to his current attire. "Or, and this better not be the case, but it's beginning to look like it could be..."

An eyebrow raise from Sam prompted the rest of Dean's theory, "Well, considering I remember going to bed sober last night, for the first time in weeks, I'm willing to bet there's something else going on here. So unless you're messing with me...bring me a mirror"

"What?" the younger Winchester was beyond confused at this point and struggling to keep up but after a pointed look from the man on the bed, he scrambled to the bathroom, his towel barely clinging to his hips as he ran, and came back barely a moment later with a small hand-held mirror with mysterious white stains on the base that Dean was sure to avoid as he took it from his brother's unsure, outstretched hand.

"Here goes nothing" he mumbled as he brought the mirror level with his face, his eyes downcast. He slowly lifted his gaze to his reflection, taking note of his backwards blue tie and white collar. He really had all the details down, huh?

Sam looked on with a bemused expression, wondering what the hell was happening.

Dean's gaze rose higher, taking in a rough stubbled chin, darker than his own and with a larger cleft than he was used to seeing in his reflection. His lips appeared larger and much more chapped than usual. His nose much straighter, yet still somewhat hooked downwards and between two deep set lines showing a distinct lack of sleep. And finally he took in his whole face, the bright blue eyes that peered back at him, his gaze much more cold and calculating than he ever remembered it being.

The dark, unruly hair that topped off his appearance was what finally had him whispering a " _Well fuck_ " before he dropped the mirror, dimly registering the smash as it broke into a hundred pieces on the motel room floor.

Sam's startled cry was only slightly louder to his now muted senses.

He became aware of his own ragged, panicked breathing and his final thought before he felt the first warm drops fall to his cheeks was 'What the hell happened to Cas?"


	3. Chapter 3

Okay guys, this chapter is mostly just exploring the relationship between Sam and Dean, which I based off two main things:  
a) re-watching season 12, where we get a lot of these brotherly moments,  
b) my brother-sister relationship with my little sister (mainly just me picking on her).

The Cas stuff will be in the next chapter and don't worry guys, the deancas relationship is still the main focus here, I just felt like I should actually give Sam a personality since he's going to be a recurring character throughout the fic. I mean, he's kind of important in Dean's life so I can't just ignore him.

So, without further waffle from me, please enjoy the new chapter.

 **Chapter 3**

"Cas! What the hell is going- Dean?" Sam grabbed him by the shoulder once again, this time in an attempt to snap him out of his-whatever this was. The disbelief was evident in his tone as he questioned the true identity of the man before him who apparently was not Cas.

But it did make sense, only Dean called him Sammy, and occasionally Lucifer and Gabriel, but the former was gone from his head now and the latter was dead as far as he knew.

Dean(?) let out a pitiful groan at Sam's attempts to get through to him and get him to explain what was going on.

"Jesus Christ!" he tried again. "What happened?" he shook the older Winchester by the shoulders again, a recurring habit he seemed to have developed for when he had to get Cas' attention. He just felt like he needed to respect the angels boundaries - although Dean would insist that Cas had none. Still, it was strange how Cas would stand so close to Dean and yet distance himself from the slightest contact with anyone else.

Deciding it was all or nothing, believe it or not, he chose to accept that this was most probably Dean. He knew he had to suck it up and reach through to Dean a different way, and so he found himself enveloping his brother in a clumsy hug, made awkward by both the position they were in- one on the bed, one stood on the floor - and the fact that this wasn't entirely Dean.

He could feel the shoulders beneath him begin to still, only disturbed by the occasional jerk when the man took a large, shuddering breath and let it out shakily and slow.

"Dean? It's okay, I'm here. I understand...I think" he couldn't help but add that last bit but it seemed to do the trick anyhow as he felt the body beneath him straighten and he pulled back to maintain eye contact with Dean, who was staring at him from behind their friend's eyes.

"It must've been that damn witch" mumbled Dean.

Sam moved back a little further, out of his brother's personal space that he seemed to love so much, and proceeded to ask him the most pressing question, "Where's Cas? Does he know what happened?"

"Son of a bitch is probably getting himself into trouble trying to fix it for us all" Dean smiled sadly. Suddenly, he remembered himself and how he'd promised Sam few days ago, back at the bunker, that he'd try his best not to be so depressing. He sighed and shrugged, "Well, as long as he don't mess up my meat suit"

" _Meat suit_ , really Dean?" Sam smirked, this was definitely his brother.

"What?" he looked up and raised his eyebrows in question at Sam. "You learn to think objectively after a couple years on the job."

Sam raised a single eyebrow in return, honestly surprised his neanderthal of a brother knew a word as complicated as 'objectively', but also in question of said brother's use of the word 'years' - made it sound like they'd only started hunting in their late-twenties like any other _normal_ hunter.

Dean caught on quick, surprisingly, "Fine decades, whatever. Not like we've been consorting with angels all our lives. This whole schtick with Lucifer trying to get all up inside your ass only started a few years back".

He probably should have felt bad for such blatant teasing of his brother's ordeal with the goddamn Devil, but what could he say? Dean's use of sardonic humour was how he related to the world and anyone who couldn't deal with that could kindly go and screw themselves.

"Whatever jerk" smiled Sam. After all, he'd been dealing with his brother's stupid jokes for his whole life.

"Bitch" laughed Dean in a low, foreign sound. it briefly occurred to him that he'd never heard Cas laugh whole-heartedly before.

Sam laughed, "That sounds so weird coming from you right now".

Dean suddenly became aware of the fact he was literally Cas, on the floor with puffy cheeks, saying 'bitch' in the angel's gravelly voice.

He laughed and said "I am the one who gripped you tight and touched your ass"

"What?" Sam was thoroughly confused by this whole situation.

"Nevermind Sammy, you had to be there" Dean 'explained'.

"Uh, okay Ca-Dean... God, it's weird calling you that"

"Oh yeah? How do you think I feel?"

Sam immediately took on the kicked puppy look as if he wasn't allowed to have his own problems, "Point taken, sorry Dean".

Dean sighed, "Yeah, exactly...now come on". He threw his legs over the bed and pushed himself to his feet, careful to avoid the shards of glass on the floor from the shattered mirror he'd dropped in his shock. He pulled on Cas' formal, black shoes which were right by the bed and realised that Sam must've taken them off for him before putting him in bed.

He kicked some glass and wiped his face on the trenchcoat sleeve, admiring how soft the material actually is.

Sam watched silently as Dean marveled at his new feet and the shoes that were a notable step up from the size he usually wore. After an expectant look from the older Winchester, he nodded, "Yeah, we should probably start searching for Cas".

They both began packing up their few supplies, mainly the shower stuff Sam had brought with them, not trusting the motel supplies to pass a black-light test.

"So tell me," Dean took off the trench and folded it up on the bed in favour of one of the spare shirts he brought with him from the bunker, "what in the name of holy hell are you wearing on your head?"

Sam took on a look of panic and embarrassment as he realised he was still wearing the shower cap and quickly ripped it from his head and stuffed it back in his duffel bag, glaring at his older brother who made the angel he was wearing look so wrong with that smirk.

"It's nothing Dean, what does it matter?" After an eyebrow raise and a shrug from the older Winchester, Sam sighed heavily and continued, "You know what Dean? We've caused more harm to the world than we could ever hope to repair in our combined lifetimes and you think I enjoy knowing that I'm wasting precious moments of some innocent persons life with my hygiene issues?"

Dean gave a disbelieving look, "Hygiene issues? You mean hair in the drain?" He laughed, "You know, if you just let me shave your hair, or cut it a bit, you wouldn't have this problem". This earned him a glare from his younger brother. Naturally, he continued "Unless it's not just the head hair, in which case your gonna have to take up your own razor in your free time, I ain't touching that, sorry Sammy."

"Ew, Dean. Just, ew"

Dean gave a predatory grin.

"Please just stop with the dirty jokes and the creepy smiles until you're back in your own body"

"Of course Samuel, where are my manners? What would heaven think? I've been corrupted" Dean said in a deep, monotone voice, reminiscent of when they'd first met Cas.

"Dude stop" laughed Sam.

As much as Dean loved his brother, it had been forever since they'd both let go and laughed a little and besides, he was the king of making the best out of a bad situation so he decided to push it further.

He replied with "Dick" in the same monotone voice as his last statement.

"Dean!" There were honest-to-God tears in his younger brothers eyes now that filled Dean with a sense of pride and no plan to stop soon.

"Tits" he grinned, noting how unaccustomed his face felt to the use of those muscles.

"Stop it now Dean, I'm serious!" Sam was bent over in fits of laughter at this point.

"Pussy"

"Man, that's just rude" he grinned, wiping tears of mirth from his eye.

"Motherfu-"

Sam threw a pillow at Dean's head, cutting off his next profanity, laughing at his older brother's expression. Dean took a second to compose himself before going into 'Hunter Mode'. He smirked and rolled over the corner of his bed to hide behind the bathroom door, out of the way of Sam's attacks - waiting for a rogue pillow to come within reach.

He cursed as he realised his brother was smart enough not to give Dean any kind of advantage and he knew from experience Sam would wait all day to sneak a hit on him if he had to. He looked around to see what he had at his disposal, narrowly missing another hit from Sam, watching in vain as the pillow that sailed past him landed too far from the bathroom door for him to safely reach without being hit.

His frown soon turned to a maniacal grin as he saw the small pile of towels on the rack behind him - such a good word, he thought. _Rack_. Added to the four rolls of toilet paper he counted next to the crapper, that gave him _four, five, six, seven._ Seven pieces of ammunition in this fight.

He grabbed them all and put them by the door, taking off his shoes too because he knew from experience that the fight would escalate and they would start using hard ammo after they ran out of anything and everything remotely soft to throw.

Actually, come to think of it, he kinda understood where Sam was coming from now about being sorry for those who have to clean up their mess.

' _Oh well_ ', he thought as he threw a rolled up towel like a javelin towards Sam, laughing.


End file.
